


the strongest state

by GrumpiestCat



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Angst, F/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpiestCat/pseuds/GrumpiestCat
Summary: Her body felt like it did when she was ill – weak, warm, and wobbly – but she still wasn’t scared.  She never was when they had to enter an unknown area and she had to rely on him to watch her back.





	

There was a small clatter as the chopsticks fell out of his hand again and onto the table.

“For crying out loud, just hold them the way you normally do,” Velvet grumbled.  Rokurou’s meal sat mostly uneaten because he kept dropping his utensils more often than not; Eleanor had just chastised him about the way he held them a few hours before, and he was making an effort to use them ‘properly’.

Like it even mattered.  Eleanor wasn’t here – everyone else was probably asleep at this point – and even if she had been, he should eat his damn food however he wanted.

“Her rules are stupid,” she said, when he didn’t adjust his hand position.

“They’re _different_ from ours, that’s all.  Not stupid.”

She felt like rolling her eyes; even after insulting and yelling at him – while he was trying to compliment her food, no less – he was defending her.

“Her reaction tells me it’s more than just wanting to follow rules,” he continued.  “Maybe that’s something her mother taught her, that’s important to her, and being challenged on it brought up bad memories.  Maybe … maybe she couldn’t hold her chopsticks correctly when she was younger, and her mother was always criticizing her.  Maybe she never mastered the skill while her mother was alive.  So she believes doing it properly now, and encouraging others, is a way of honoring her mother.”

In her mind’s eye, she saw Eleanor as a child, being lectured by her mother, feeling guilty for not having the coordination to meet some exacting standard.  If that was the case, she could possibly understand a bit better, but –

“That’s no excuse for yelling at you.”

“When humans are emotional –”

Velvet walked over to the table and snatched the chopsticks he was _still_ fumbling with out of his hand.  “You’re fine the way you are, and nobody should try to change you.”

Their eyes met, and it was another one of those moments where the room suddenly felt too warm.  She wanted him, the way a woman wants a man, and she thought he felt the same way.  But it seemed like he was waiting for her to make the first move, and she had no idea how to start.  Was it too forward to just kiss him?  Should she announce she wanted to kiss him, then do it?  That sounded so silly.  _I’m going to kiss you now, Rokurou.  Is that okay?_

He stood up and she briefly worried that she had said something wrong, that he was going to walk out.  Instead, he carefully stepped into her space, and giving her all the time in the world to push him away, embraced her.  He’d never hugged her before.  His kimono was soft against the spots where her skin was exposed, and his hair smelled like the sea, and his breath was hot on her neck, and if he just moved his head a little, his lips would be pressing against –

The footsteps coming down the hall were unmistakable, and he must have heard them as she did, because he pulled away just in time to avoid Eleanor seeing them when she entered the dining hall.

“Oh, I see I wasn’t the only one looking for a midnight snack.”

“I’ll be heading up, actually,” he said, picking up his bowl and carrying it into the small kitchen.  Velvet sat down to eat her mushy rice – covered in almost every spicy seasoning she could find, in case maybe, this time, it would be different – while Eleanor stood awkwardly, apparently waiting for Rokurou to finish washing his dishes. 

Velvet lifted the food to her mouth – nothing – as she heard the water get turned off.  He re-entered the hall just long enough to bid them good night, then went in the direction of his room.  She was slightly disappointed, but not surprised.  Whatever might have been about to happen between them, it couldn’t happen with Eleanor there.

“Oh, he forgot his sake!”

Eleanor reached for the bottle that Rokurou always had with him, that he had left on the table, but Velvet stopped her.

“I’ll take it to him.”

“No, it’s okay, finish your –”

“You can have it.”  She pushed her bowl over.  “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh, thanks.  If you’re sure?”

She nodded as Eleanor delicately wiped the chopsticks off on her napkin and stirred the rice.  As Velvet moved into the hallway, she heard Eleanor suddenly launch into a coughing fit.

Oh.  Right.  Probably should have said something about the spice.

She knocked on the door of his bedroom and he answered quickly.  He must have been getting ready for bed, because he was clad only in his pants.  The sight of him bare-chested was hardly new to her, but she still inhaled sharply.

“You left this,” she said, holding out the bottle.

A soft smile lit up his face.  “I was hoping you’d notice.”

But when he took it from her, he only placed it on the table off to his left.  She must have looked puzzled, because he added, “I don’t feel like drinking.”

“You _always_ feel like drinking.”

He reached for her hand, pulled her into his room, out of the hallway, so close that she could feel his body heat radiating off him.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“I want to kiss you, Velvet.  Is that okay?”

The words that had always sounded silly in her head made her shiver when they fell from his mouth.  She could stop this.  She could tell him no and he’d release her, step back, let her leave.  They could keep things as they were.  No mess.  No complications.

But no matter how selfish she was, life was lonely without someone to share it with.

Instead of answering, she tilted her head so her lips were nearly touching his, and he didn’t hesitate.  Rokurou slid an arm around her waist, bringing her body flush with his, as his other arm stretched around her to close the door.  Then he was kissing her, and it was just like the gentle kisses of her dreams.

For a moment, at least.

Her mouth opened to him, out of instinct or desire, it didn’t matter, and then it was as if he was trying to devour her.  If he tasted the spices on her tongue, he didn’t protest. His lips felt soft, and she wanted to tease him; he obviously _did_ use that balm Eizen had offered him to keep them from getting chapped.

Except she couldn’t find words because he was sliding his hands up her back, under her shirt, and she knew what he wanted even before he asked permission.  She nodded as she reached for the belt holding up his pants.

“Please,” he groaned, as he began to remove her clothing.  All she had to do was pull loose the knot and his pants fell to the floor, revealing that he had nothing on underneath.  She’d never seen a man naked before, and even though she knew he would have a protruding organ between his legs, she couldn’t have imagined what it would look like.  It bobbed as he kicked his discarded pants aside, and was a bit darker than the rest of his skin, tinged red like her skin after a hard blow.  Thicker at the end, it looked like a lever … and as she stared at it, it rose up a bit, towards her.

Then she realized that although she was no longer wearing her shirt, he had stopped undressing her.  He cupped the side of her face and – as hard as it was – she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“We can slow down.”

Tears started to well up, and she forced her eyes wide to keep them from falling.  No.  No, they couldn’t slow down.  They didn’t have time.  She took off her remaining garments and tossed them aside.  When she stood up, she was as exposed as he was, and even though he was still looking at her face, she could see his organ had risen some more.  And it seemed … bigger?

Maybe it should have been intimidating, but she wasn’t worried.  And she was feeling a definite pressure between her own legs.

“I want you,” she admitted.  So now she had bared her heart as well as her body, and she still didn’t feel weak, or frightened, not even when his daemon eye flashed red.  Was this what … what love did to a person?  Make it okay to be vulnerable?

Rokurou pulled her close, resumed kissing her, this time with his hand roaming over her front.  Her breasts were starting to ache, and when he pinched a hard nipple, it only got worse.  Or better.  She just knew she didn’t want him to stop.

He did just that, though, so he could guide her to the bed.  When she laid down, her legs parted, her hair up and out of the way, and an arm extended towards him, he growled.  Then he was on top of her, kissing her, caressing her, making her buck her hips up in impatience.  He put a hand on her stomach to push her back down, then placed it directly over where the warmth was pooling in her.  She knew he was going to touch her, put his finger inside her, but she still gasped when it happened.  He stopped until she put her hand over his, trying to silently urge him to continue.

With a low moan, he broke off their kiss so he could press his lips to her neck.  She turned her head to give him better access and felt soft suction on the skin.  Before she could ask him what he was doing, though, there was another finger inside her, and it felt _good_ but wasn’t enough.

“Please,” she whispered.  He licked a path up to her ear, gently biting it, not halting what he was doing below.  With his thumb, he managed to brush across the sensitive nub above her opening, and then it was her turn to growl.  Her body felt like it did when she was ill – weak, warm, and wobbly – but she still wasn’t scared.  She never was when they had to enter an unknown area and she had to rely on him to watch her back.  And this was definitely an unknown area for her. 

Somewhere along the line, she learned to trust him.

“Stop me if anything ever feels uncomfortable,” he murmured before re-positioning himself on the bed.  Suddenly he was looming over her, his organ thick and darker than his hand as he gripped it.  He slowly started to enter her, and she could feel the walls of her body adjusting around him.  Welcoming him.  Like … like he was a part of her that was finally back in place.  Rokurou paused and touched her hips, encouraging her to angle them differently.  Then he was pushing the rest of him into her, until they were as joined as they possibly could be.

And it still didn’t seem like enough.

His gaze was as penetrating as his body, and she understood he was waiting for her to grant permission.  Buried inside her and he was _still_ seeking approval before doing anything.  She couldn’t speak, so she only nodded, and he started to move.  Slowly, staring at her the whole time.  She wanted … something, she wasn’t sure what.  It felt good.  It felt … wonderful.  But –

“More,” Velvet rasped.

“Faster?”  His voice was tight, like he was in pain.  Again, all she could do was nod.  His thrusts picked up speed until the headboard of the bed started banging against the wall.  She couldn’t remember where the others’ rooms were and she didn’t care in that moment.  Rokurou was slamming his body against hers, but it didn’t hurt, even as it felt like he was pushing deeper inside than before. 

Her senses were bombarded.  The sight of his face, eyes alternating between being clenched shut and forced open, the sweat starting to show on his brow, the way his lips kept moving.  The sound of her name, intermingled with gasps and grunts.  His scent, stronger, tinged with something unfamiliar but still undeniably _him_.  She couldn’t taste him, but she slid a hand up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him down to her anyway.  It threw off his rhythm, but she could feel the roughness of his tongue and the smoothness of his teeth and he kissed her so hard she thought her lips might bruise. 

She almost wanted it to.  So many painful things had marked her body; this would be tangible proof of something good.

When he lifted his head to breathe, she took the opportunity to flip them over, which wasn’t as easy a feat as she thought it would be.  It was simpler in battle, when bodies weren’t connected like this.  He hissed as he slipped out of her, and it took her a moment to position herself so she could take him in again, but he didn’t complain about that, or the fact that she was moving more slowly than he had been.

Fast had felt good, but this was nice, too.  She had her hands on his chest for leverage, while his roamed from her knees up her thighs, over her hips.

“Can I touch you?”

“You … you are.”

“No, I mean, here.”  Rokurou’s hands rose, like he wanted to touch her breasts, but the way her arms were positioned, it would be awkward at best.  She removed her hands from his body and he instantly placed his on her chest, cupping her flesh.  While he caressed her, she started to move on him again, even as the look in his eye threatened to paralyze her.  It was almost too much.  He had never even looked at his blades like that.

Devotion.  That was the only word she could think of to describe it.

He abandoned one breast to touch her just above where they were joined.  It sent a jolt through her and she lurched forward.  He steadied her, then put one arm behind him so he could prop himself up.  So he could stroke her cheek.  Only then did she realize she was trembling.  When had that happened?

“Hey, Velvet.  You okay?”

She felt unsteady, like her limbs had been replaced with her sister’s blueberry jelly, but she didn’t want him to stop.  She didn’t want this to end.  He lay back and lifted her off him.

“No, Rokurou, I’m … I’m fine, just –”

Oh, but he wasn’t stopping.  Just returning them to their previous positions, his body perfectly angled to enter her again.  With his hand curled up, he brushed her cheekbone with the back of his fingers.  It set off a wave of warmth and intensified her need to have them rejoined.  Velvet wrapped her shaky legs around him and pulled him close.  He let out a low growl.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured.  He took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her palm before bringing it between them. 

Her fingers kept bumping into him, as she rubbed herself, as he took her, but he didn’t seem to mind.  He started slowly but soon resumed his pace from before.  Her heart was pounding and her breasts were bouncing with each thrust.  She started to feel light-headed, like she did when she ignored food for too long, but it was impossible to feel weak with the way he was looking at her.

With her free hand, she reached up and caressed his face, feeling the sweat there.  His hips froze for a second, but then he was slamming into her with even more force.  She dug her fingers into his shoulder as she felt her back arch up, as her ears started to ring, as she cried out to him with a desperation that would have embarrassed her, only a few months ago. 

Her core clenched at him, more fiercely than it had ever tightened around her own fingers, and she could no longer find air to say his name.  Rokurou kept moving through it all, until the heat had washed through her, until her muscles no longer felt like they were about to snap.  Until she was relaxed and then he buried himself in her and grunted like he was slicing through a vicious enemy.

Velvet felt exhausted as she let her trembling limbs fall back onto the mattress.  Oddly, it didn’t feel like weakness.  His hot breath was hitting her neck in rapid bursts and his weight pressing down on her indicated he was just as drained.  And she had done that to –

No, not “to”.  She did this with him.  They had been partners, responding to each other, working with each other, doing their best to please each other.  Maybe that’s why she wasn’t scared, didn’t feel weak.

She was grateful that they each had their own rooms tonight.  It was Eizen’s turn to stay with Laphicet, so nobody could interrupt them.  If it was okay with him, she could lie in his bed until morning, curled up with Rokurou’s heat. 

He kissed her forehead before moving off her, off the bed.  Even if it hadn’t been his room, she wouldn’t have worried that he was leaving her.  Being able to trust someone, completely, after everything was … it was nice.  There was a pitcher and a bowl on the table by his door, and he dug a piece of cloth out of his rucksack so he could pour water over it and bring it back to the bed.  His touch was gentle as he cleaned up between her legs, then turned it over and wiped himself down as well.  He tossed the damp cloth on the floor, but her frown got him to sheepishly get back up and place it in the basin.

As a result, his hand was cold and clammy when he came back, when he touched her face.  The expression he wore wasn’t unfamiliar; she had seen it many times before, but only now understood what it meant.  Rokurou had loved her for so long, and he had never pushed her for anything.  He had waited until she was ready.

And he had to have known there was a possibility she never would have been.

She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, but she pulled him close and kissed him again, hoping he would get the message.

(fin.)

 

 

 


End file.
